


Letters

by abrodkin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, french teacher Levi aka my favourite thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrodkin/pseuds/abrodkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How long will it be until I board a plane and go back to you? I am doing this for us, for our future, and yet I find myself regretting taking the position. Just know that I am always thinking of you, of those words you speak, the hair that grows from your head, of every aspect of you that I can pick apart and analyze.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> this fucking thing was supposed to be less than 5000 words.

If you had ever laid eyes on him, you would probably assume he's arrogant and proper. 

That's not true. Really, he's like Kool-Aid in a wine glass.

The only time he's every really eloquent is when he writes me letters from his station. Surprisingly, even when making his shitty jokes, he sounds poised.

I love his letters.

They remind me to keep on living.

I was devastated when he told me about his new position. "They're giving me board," he said, "but I can't bring anyone. I'm sorry."

This house is just a house now.

Even though it's furnished in black and grey, when he was here, it felt alive. Flames would lick the sides of the chairs and the walls, but nothing ever burned. Everything was warm, especially my heart.

Things change.

 

* * *

****

**_Day 5_ **

_Dear Eren,_

_Things are not much different here._

_I have written every day since my departure, but so far, we haven't had access to a post office. It's strange. I feel hollow, like mailing these would somehow fill that void and replace your presence. Nothing ever will, I suspect._

_It hurts my heart. It hurts so much. Days pass into nights, and slowly, I am forgetting your smell. Tell me, what do you wear again? I know the name, it's on the tip of my tongue, but it's like being here is making my memory fade, and like I am losing my English._

_None of the students know a lick of it. It's so frustrating, right? You would have flipped a table already. They're 16, but it feels like they are two._

_If people ever try to tell you that teens in other countries are better behaved, don't listen to them. If anything, they're worse._

_These kids are making me want to sharpen blades on the napes of their necks. Take that as you will. Just know that I prefer Hanji's company to theirs which is shocking to even myself._

_Every day, I've been trying to remind myself of you. We have no Internet yet, so it isn't like I can just ring you up and stare at those turquoise orbs you call eyes. I've said it multiple times, but I don't know how your genes work. You're confusing._

_Have you been cleaning? I'm worried about the state of our home. I know I've told you this for years, but remember that I only like Magic Erasers. I'll know if you decide to use those shitty, dollar store cloths you insist work the same._

_I am supporting us still, remember that. Don't worry about the cost. I hope I'm worth the extra few dollars._

_You are worth all the money in the world, and at the same time, you are worth none of it._

_I suppose you're getting to your first class now. Are you enjoying that? You said you hated the teacher, right? Did you? Or am I even losing my memory?_

_How long will it be until I board a plane and go back to you? I am doing this for us, for our future, and yet I find myself regretting taking the position. Just know that I am always thinking of you, of those words you speak, the hair that grows from your head, of every aspect of you that I can pick apart and analyze._

_I love you. With every sweltering sun, with every fierce tidal wave, I love you._

_Levi_

* * *

 

He called me, and he said, “Eren, you would not fucking believe the shit that is happening here. No wonder my parents moved to New York when they could. It’s ridiculous.”

And I answered, “What?”

And he replied, “They have fireworks every goddamn night. I can’t sleep. Nothing is clean, there are rats everywhere, and fuck- Every single one of my students is an arrogant asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing you can fix. How’s class?”

“Eh, the same. You haven’t been gone _that_ long, you know.”

“You’re the shittiest asshole ever. Three months isn’t that long, my _ass._ And I fucking thought at least one person missed me over there.”

“That’s not true! Hanji stopped by the other night and practically unhinged the door with her knocking. She wanted to know why you haven’t written her. Why haven’t you written her?”

“She’s annoying. Why the fuck would I write her?”

And I sighed. “Because she’s one your best friends? God, Levi.”

“You’re not my mother, Eren.”

“I might as well be your mother.”

“Fuck, that’s creepy. I’m banging my _mother?!”_

“Oh, shut up!”

And I could practically sense him smirking. “Still hot-headed as ever, I see.”

“Like I said, three months isn’t that long.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Well what?”

And now I _knew_ he was smirking. “I still love you. Three months can’t change that.”

“Yeah, I love you too, asshole. When will you be back?”

And he paused, sighing. “They want to extend my contract. Apparently I’m the best teacher in this goddamn program.”

“Really? Are you gonna take it?”

“I’m not sure.” And his voice faltered for second. “It would be an extra $50,000, but…”

“That’s amazing! Take the extension, really, I’m fine here alone.”

“Well that makes me feel so much better about being in fucking Paris.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry. That was rude of me.”

And I leaned on my hand, staring out the window in our room. “It’s snowing here, you know.”

“Really? That’s rare.”

“Yeah. Do they have Starbucks’ where you are?”

“Yeah. It’s fucking expensive, though.”

“Next time you’re there, get an eggnog latte and send me a picture. I’ll do the same. That’s how we met, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. Of course I remember. You were an annoying freshman who needed to sit down and study, and I was the asshole hogging a four-seater.”

“I didn’t actually need to study, though.”

“I know that. How many times have we recounted this?”

“Too many.”

And he sighed again. “I have to go to sleep, I just saw the time. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK. I love you. When will you get phone access again?”

“I’m really not sure. I’m going to try to get it in five days at earliest. I’ll send you a message, alright? I love you too.”

“Stay safe there.”

“I will. It’s Paris, not Harlem.”

 

* * *

 

**_Day 142_ **

_Dear Eren,_

_Today, the students asked me to tell them a story or two. Today is a Friday, of course they didn’t want to do work, and who was I to make them?_

_I told them this._

_On October 16 th, 1986, two French citizens packed their bags and left the country for good. One of them was an esteemed personal shopper. The other, a government worker._

_No one knew how they matched up. Really, it was simple; they met, they fucked, they realized they had given each other amazing orgasms, and they deemed themselves compatible. They had been married since 1983, and everything had been going smoothly._

_On April 27 th, 1987, the wife told her husband that she was one month pregnant with their first child. They were living in a fairly modest home just outside of New York City. The French government had provided benefits for the husband, so their lives were smooth sailing. He was overjoyed. He called everyone he knew, saying, “Look! Look! I am a decent person after all!”_

_They had their child on December 25 th, 1987. The child, a male, was a few days early, and the parents were slightly disappointed. They had wanted a New Years baby. The birthday, Christmas, would mean they would have to shell out double the gifts. No matter. They could afford it._

_The child had a fairly stable life until his sixth year. The mother, his mother, had started having dreams the year before. Dreams of walls, dreams of giant, humanoid creatures devouring citizens, and she screamed in the night, “Help! Help me, we are in a war! My child, my child! Save the child, let me die!”_

_This was what caused the death of the parents._

_Driving to New York City one day, the mother had seen a face in the car adjacent. And she started screaming. She grabbed onto the wheel, she swerved the car into the guardrail, and the world went black._

_The child woke up with flashing lights and gruff voices surrounding him, blood trickling from his head and grime caked onto his clothing. “Well,” he thought, “this is pleasant.”_

_The parents had died on impact, the police said. And the child never explained why the car had crashed to the police. He said, “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”_

_The child was put into an orphanage until he was old enough to figure out how to escape the place. And so he leeched off of his friends until he was grossly unhealthy, cheeks hollow and eyes sunken in._

_He was admitted into a mental hospital, and evaluation told him that he was extremely malnourished. When asked why he didn’t eat, he said, “Because I cannot feel.”_

_Eventually, he got better, gaining muscle and fat, letting his hair grow back and letting his cheeks fill out. He completed high school and graduated a year later than he was supposed to, and entered university, aiming to become a French teacher._

_He had always kept his parents’ native tongue, and he wanted to honor them in the only way he knew how._

_Sitting in a Starbucks on January 4th, he was asked by a babbling freshman if the chairs at his table were free. The freshman needed to study, he said, and there were no other places._

_“Sure,” he replied._

_And the freshman sat down, and began talking to the man._

_They started dating a few weeks later._

_When the freshman was a senior and the man was 25, he got an offer to move to France for a school year to teach. The pay would be good, and it would be an amazing set up for his future._

_He said yes._

_The end._

_I love you, with my whole heart, with the void left by my parents, with the anguish I feel as you are not with me. I love you, that babbling freshman, the one that hated his teacher and wanted to punch everything in sight. I love you, and that is enough._

_Levi_

* * *

He is very vague, sometimes.

I remember one day, in March, when he called me and he said, “Eren. Help.”

And I asked why, and he said, “I’m the only teacher staying here for the extended contract.”

He had grown to like the language teachers who were doing the same contract as him: Petra, Auruo, Gunther, Erd. He had grown to like them, but they had families to attend to and lives outside of the contract.

He did, too. He didn’t understand how he could be so cold-hearted.

“You don’t want to face any more loss, right?” I had asked. “That’s why you’re telling yourself that you don’t care.”

“I know.”

“But you aren’t a cold-hearted monster, Levi. If you were, you would have dumped me and made me pay our rent by myself, and I wouldn’t have been happy about that.”

“Yeah.”

“So stop beating yourself up, alright? If anything, you still have me. And don’t forget about Hanji and Erwin.”

I had imagined him running a hand through his hair, racing through the thoughts in his mind. “I know. I miss you, I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too. It’ll be OK. _We’ll_ be OK. Just because your friends are gone doesn’t mean that you will fade away. You’ll be OK. Just because you feel stoic doesn’t necessarily mean that you are.”

“I wish you could fly out here.”

“Yeah, me too. I have to pay our bills, though. Shame how one of us is stuck here.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

We had hung up on each other a few minutes later, with promises to talk more and giving each other our love.

I had been reading his letters, carefully poring over every word and punctuation mark, trying to figure out what exactly he meant.

_I love you, and that is enough._

What did that mean? Enough for what? For _us?_ For _him?_ I never had the courage to ask him, and I suppose that was a good thing. For I never wanted to know, and I doubt he would have told me.

In that letter, he left out major details of his life, though I suppose he was telling me the version he told his students. Just as well, as I already knew the majority of his life story. For one, when he was 16, he wasn’t just malnourished- he had clinical depression and OCD, which gave in to high anxiety, which led him to refuse food and nourishment since he felt like the food supplied was modified. It made sense that he didn’t want to tell his students. He had only told me after we moved in together, when I was 19 and he was 23 going on 24.

As well, he didn’t recount how exactly we started dating, or the details of our relationship, which I was thankful for. I doubt his students would have wanted to know how I sounded when I was bent up at the waist, or how he looked when his arms were bound to a chair with rope. Indeed, their teenage minds would be tainted if he had recounted how, when he was so deep inside of me that I saw white, he would let out a high pitched moan and keel over.

Some things are not meant to be said. I am grateful for that.

 

* * *

 

**_Day 203_ **

_Dear Eren,_

_I enjoyed our Skype session last night._

_Please, while you’re reading this, recount how it felt to hear my voice when you had your fingers up your ass, when I had my hand on my dick and one eye peeled on the door of my lodging._

_Recount how I told you how I passed by un magasin de sexe, how I got rincé à l'embarras, how, when I got back to the lodging, I immediately mettre mes mains dans mon pantalon and, disregarding the time, called you._

_Recount how you woke up from your nap after work and asked me, “Levi, what the fuck?” And how I responded, “Are you convoiter pour moi?” And how you didn’t know what that meant, and how I chuckled but stopped and whined after my nails rubbed the side of my cock, and you said “Oh.”_

_Recount how I said, “Get on Skype,” and how you replied, “Please.” And recount how, when my face popped up on your screen, red, flustered, you said, “Oh, so it’s like that.”_

_And I said, “Yes, il est très certainement comme ça.”_

_Recount how you wiggled out of your sweatpants, those choses laides, knocked the heel of your hand against the side of your head and ventured into our bedroom, returning a few seconds later with the bottle of lubrifiant._

_Recount how I made you feel._

_Are you?_

_Knowing you so well, I can practically tell what you look like right now. In fact, I can remember it clearly in my mind._

_You coincé les doigts vers le haut yourself, you got tout le chemin jusqu'à vos jointures, you let out the plus beau gémir, you went at it until we were both tuckered out and panting._

_I remember, you said, “Thanks,” which I found odd, considering humans are able to get off without the help of others. And as I am your partner, I didn’t see the need for thanks. It wasn’t a favour to you, it was a natural thing, something we shouldn’t feel like we owe each other._

_Does it feel like that? To you?_

_I’ll have the answer before this letter even gets to you, but I hope it doesn’t feel like that._

_I have been gone from you for almost eight months, and yet, I feel like it has been an eternity. Such things as long distance relationships shouldn’t have existed before the Internet. Seeing you pleasure yourself is better than hearing it, despite being pixelated and choppy._

_Je me demande si vous serez toujours m'aimer dans la matinée._

_I’m sorry. It seems like my eyes have turned into wells, pools of salt,_ _prolactin_ _, adrenocorticotropic hormone, Leu-enkephalin, potassium and manganese._

_Hanji would be proud of me. In reality, I went on Wikipedia. Funny how the average human mind cannot comprehend the chemicals that go into something so simple._

_You have always said, and I remember, that I get too articulate and emotional when I really sit down and think. And that’s true. I believe I do, too. Someone should really take the pen and paper away from me before I end up doing something I regret. I am wondering why you even put up with me._

_203 letters I have written, and none of them measure up to how I feel. Words cannot express the human emotions I am feeling._

_I find myself missing New York, strangely enough, with its cheap imitations of culture and those underground magazines you tend to enjoy. And some would argue that I am getting more of a life experience here, but really, what is so different about Paris? What is so different here that I cannot find in the depths of the Lower East Side? What is so different about these worn paths as opposed to the numbered streets and dark alleys I often frequented when I was with you?_

_I probably killed your mood. I’ll make it up to you whenever I come home._

_Home is where the ones you love are. If that is the case, and I believe it is, than I have not been home in almost eight months._

_You’re my last hope. Nice to meet you, I’m cliché, but who cares?_

_Levi_

* * *

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m _sorry._ ”

“Please shut up.”

“Oh, come on-”

“Levi. Please. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You-”

“I don’t fucking care if you had all the shit in the world to do. You could have spared five goddamn minutes to fucking call me.”

“Do you want me to be completely honest with you?”

“Of course I fucking do. What is it?”

“…It slipped my mind.”

“My _birthday_ slipped your _mind?_ Is _that_ it? It’s the second to last day of the month, what else is on that day?! God…”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“What were you even doing?”

“Marking.”

“Oh, please tell me what the hell you were marking that you couldn’t spare five minutes from.”

“Essays. Look, I-”

I hung up on him.

Fights, though seldom, were often perpetuated with loud voices and hurt feelings.

And it hurt. You would not believe the things that we have said to each other, but this was the pinnacle.

Early on, much earlier on, we had vowed to not forget certain dates. “That way,” he had said, “We’ll be eliminating one agitation.” He had suggested it, and yet, he had been the one to break the promise. And I’ll admit, it stung.

Though I was a babbling freshman when we met, I hadn’t been… good. Rather, the second time we had met, I had shown up bloody, bruised, and tired.

He knew I had an uncontrollable anger. He knew, and yet, he chose to gloss me over like a page in one of those essays he was so keen on.

One day went by. Two, three, four, until one week had passed and I was starting to cram for finals. He knew this, and he chose to leave me be.

Somehow, I understood.

Maybe he hadn’t wanted to anger me further. But still, not even one apology was given afterwards, and I knew I was being a stubborn brat, and yet I did not care.

I believe the longest we had gone without talking since the start was five days, and not by choice. So of course, this could be seen as childish. And I believe it was.

That doesn’t mean I couldn’t perpetuate said childish actions.

Having been legal for a year, instead of studying, I hit the store and bought a few six-packs with the money that could have fed me for a few days.

The alcohol, though cheap, was effective. 1,092 calories went down my throat like water, and then another 364 calories, until my thought were fuzzy and exited my mouth in slurs.

“I… don’t know, man, I don’t get why he would just _forget,_ y’know?” I had mumbled into the phone’s microphone.

“Do you really think he did it on purpose? Think about it, Eren. He _cares_ about you.”

“Armin, my man. Ha ha, Arman. Please. You gotta feel me, Arman… I’m _hurt,_ man, _hurt._ ”

“You’re also drunk.”

“You wanna drink? I bought like, _three_ six-packs, man, I’m wasted after _one._ I coulda bought like, 15 things of noodles with that money.”

“You should go to sleep.”

“Nah.”

“Don’t you have class?”

“Oh, fuck, shit-“

“Go.”

The phone clicked.

910 calories slid down my gullet, liquid goggles sloshing in my stomach and putrid thoughts running in my head.

I got 364 calories into the third pack until I got to the point where sleep was the only option.

And sleep I did.

It was a miracle that I managed to wake up in time for class, but I got through the lecture peacefully, albeit dozing off a few times.

This went on for weeks.

No one cared. I should have been studying for finals, but beer was quick, and I was desperate.

I had survived eight months without him.

Certainly I was allowed to break down once in a while.

One week before I graduated, and I had reached a critical state. It was concerning. It was horrible. _I_ was horrible.

There are certain precautions and actions one must take when their precautions don’t work. Nothing had been done to help me, and I had done nothing to help me.

One day before graduation, and I received a call at 3 AM CET.

“Hello?”

“Eren?”

And I. “…Yes?”

And he. “Are you gonna hang up on me this time?”

“Uh.”

“Please don’t.”

“…”

“I’m taking your silence as a yes to you not hanging up on me. Good. OK. I need you to listen to me, don’t just nod off or turn on the TV.”

And I. “OK.”

“OK. Alright. I said yes to the summer contract. It’s about $16,000 a month for three months.”

“That’s good.”

And he. “Have you been OK?”

“What do _you_ think?”

“That was a stupid question. I’m sorry.”

“You seem to be saying that a lot.”

“Yeah, well. I, uh… I called to say sorry. Again. Properly, this time.”

“Levi, we haven’t talked for a month. I had assumed you were done with me.”

“Is that what you thought? Shit, I really fucked it up, didn’t I.”

“Yeah. You did.”

“Shit.” And he. “Are you… seeing someone else?”

“Just because I thought you were done with me doesn’t mean I am done with you.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Yeah. Thank god.”

“I uh… I suppose you want an explanation.” And I. “I’m taking your silence as a yes. OK. The explanation is that I’m an idiot, and I don’t think despite being paid to make others think, and even though forgetting a birthday is not a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, it was an awful thing to do because we haven’t been together in person since September. And I should have remembered, but my asshole brain decided to forget and fuck with your feelings. And then instead of trying to patch things up right away, I did the worst thing by practically abandoning you for a month. And I know you’ve suffered for no reason, and that _kills_ me inside. Because I know I was the reason for that. And when I say I’m sorry, I truly mean it, from the bottom of my heart.”

“Levi.”

“Yes?”

“…What did you even do for the past month?”

And he sighed. And his voice cracked when he said, “Is that an acceptance?”

“It is.”

“Thank _god._ ”

 

* * *

 

**_Day 269_ **

_Dear Eren,_

_You graduated today. Yesterday, or this morning I suppose, I stayed up until 6 AM, just talking to you. It was nice._

_You’ll see, you’ll receive all the letters I wrote in our month of despair, the ones I never sent but only have the courage to now that I am sane again._

_I am sitting nervous in my lodging, waiting to see a live feed the university is airing at 3 AM my time. It’s a damn good thing that it’s Saturday- staying up until 6 yesterday was extremely detrimental to my teaching. I had the students watch fucking Cinderella since I was practically dead. It was worth it, though. Talking to you is worth all of the all-nighters and grumpy days I have to spare._

_Huh. It’s 4 AM now, and they just got to the E’s. How many fucking students were in your class? If I haven’t asked you before you get this, please remind me. I’m not that young anymore, remember? Though I’m sure you do. You insist on teasing me constantly about it. Well, at least you did before I left for Paris._

_I am praying to every god that last night was not a dream._

_I had never thought another human would have gotten me so up in arms, though I am the first to admit that I am not a saint._

_Did you feel what I felt, this past month? Was it worse? Were you numb, as I was? I was. God, I was numb. I was asked, "Why are you acting like this, Levi?" And I had never told anyone what happened, and I had never even recounted why I was shutting you out before we talked last night._

_Was it because of how I grew up? Shutting out others due to that fucking car crash? Because of my malnourishment? My OCD? My anxiety? Is that it?_

_I will go and get help to fully fix myself once I return to you._

_I hope you don't mind that more of our time together will be taken away by doctors. I'm sure you won't, though._

_4:30 AM_ _, and the J's have just started. I'm waiting._

_Oh, there you are._

_Oh, look at you._

_When did you buy that suit? It's beautiful. It's just cloth. The one making it beautiful is the one occupying it._

_Oh, there's Mikasa and Armin. They look so happy from the grains of their faces I can see._

_Can I admit that I teared up upon you walking across my screen? I have good reason to. Why would I not cry at something like this? I am not one of those ones who is too proud to do something of the sort._

_I am proud of you. I am so proud, but I will never admit that to you in person._

_When we speak next, will you look me in the eye and tell me that you didn't mean what you said?_

_I meant every letter in every word, every ounce of breath it took, everything I have ever told you or admitted to you._

_I am the result of every apology my mouth has ever uttered._

_You won't be receiving any honours, so I suppose there is no point in watching any longer._

_I remember, when I graduated, and we talked about when yours would approach. And you told me that you were incredibly nervous, despite having three more years at the school. And I had told you that I would be there- and you blushed and told me not to look so far into the future. And it was ironic, seeing as you had been the one doing the same thing not two minutes before._

_That was when I knew it would kill me if you decided I was not worth your time._

_Hanji and Erwin, they tell me constantly that I am too nervous. And I suppose they're right. They were extremely cruel to me during this past month, actually. It was them who gave me the reality check that prompted me to call you._

_They're good people. God knows what I did to deserve them._

_God knows what I did to deserve you._

_And I know, I know- you hate it when I act like this. But I am honest, and this attitude comes along with that honesty, much to your displeasure._

_Excuse me. Maybe I shouldn't get too honest. Maybe you just won't want to hear it, especially this close to our conversation last night._

_I will say one thing, though- you are my picket fence._

_I am missing you to death, especially now._

_You're probably sighing right now, formulating ideas in your mind as to what I'm trying to say. Truthfully? I'm not that aware myself._

_Perhaps you can try to read me like no one else. Try. Tell me the things about myself that I never even realized._

_It's_ _5 AM_ _now. The rest of the teachers and I were supposed to do cliché, touristy things come morning, but I think I'll bow out and try to steal phone time._

_The great thing about being an insomniac in the 21st century is that we have so many resources to distract us from the inevitable sleepless night. I don't intend on being ruled by insomnia_ _tonight, though._

_Goodnight, or good morning, I should say. May the stars shine as bright as the twinkle in your eyes the last time I said "I love you" to you in person._

_Levi_

* * *

 

We learn the basics of life when we are young. Our alphabet, the way to treat a person, all those sort of things.

What we don’t learn is how to deal with the post post-secondary void.

I missed having a schedule. It was like this every summer. Every year since I was four years old, I had a schedule for 10 out of the 12 months of the year.

Summer had always brought on a depression for me.

It was seasonal-affective disorder, that was what I had deduced when I was 16 years old and staring at my reflection in the mirror, trying to figure out what I was worth, if I was worth anything.

Mostly, in the summers before, I had signed up for camps and the like. My 16th summer was a different story. I had decided that camp was for babies, and set out to find a job. Getting jobs, however, is not the easiest thing, especially when all the university students come home and snatch the majority of jobs up.

I had fallen into a deep depression, one unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was scary, I was genuinely concerned for my health, but we had never had the resources available for me to get help, and I wasn’t about to reach out to the people I knew to leech off of them.

Mother had already died, father was a prick, and we were alone.

I met Levi in the midst of January, and by May, we were making plans to move in together. My 19th summer wasn’t going to be spent in my room, wallowing in my own self-pity and sneaking instant noodles into my stomach every so often.

So I guess I had forgotten what it was like to not have constants.

Work was certainly not a constant; part-time shifts were never guaranteed, and I only worked two to three shifts a week when I was lucky. Even then, the shifts weren’t any longer than five hours, and we were never busy except on Sundays, so most of my time was spent wishing for stocking jobs and counting the cans on the shelves adjacent to the cash registers.

I feared the fall months and everything that went along with them, as they not only meant quitting my current job, but getting another job and not knowing what was going to happen in Levi’s life. They meant not knowing whether he was going to come home or renew his contract, not knowing whether he would tell me to move on, as he would be staying in Paris indefinitely, not knowing his fate or what he so chose to make of it.

For now, however, I was planning on making the most out of my summer, depressed or not.

I had entered work that day with every intention of fully doing my job, serving annoying customers that only seemed to flock at our store and doing lord knows what for closing. I had been pleased to see that my co-workers that day were a few of the people I knew from university. We had all gotten our jobs around the same time, and had jokingly named ourselves the Trainee Squad.

Of course, they all knew about my ups and downs with Levi, and were especially eager that day to figure out what had happened.

“Anything new?” That was Sasha. She was hungrily eyeing the demo station, which had a new sort of pita on display.

“Eyes over here, we have customers. But yeah. We talked.”

“You did?” That was Jean. “Huh. Now we don’t have to listen to your bitching anymore. Good!”

“Shut up. We made up, OK? He watched me graduate.”

“Oh, that’s a big deal. Isn’t Paris like… six hours ahead? Shit, that must’ve sucked for him.” And that was Connie. He rubbed his crew-cut hair and smirked. “Must’ve been worth it, though. You probably did some major, uh… _catching up,_ right?”

“Oh, be quiet, Connie. Yes, we caught up, but not in the way you’re thinking of. He was awake until 6 AM, I don’t think he really wanted to do those things.”

“Or he just isn’t interested in you.” Jean.

“Shut up!”

“You seem to be saying that a lot today, Eren, am I bothering you?” Jean.

“Stop it, Jean. Seriously, if your relationship had been in jeopardy, we wouldn’t be giving you a hard time.” Sasha. “Well, maybe Eren would, but not in the way you’re doing it now.”

“He almost broke my nose when I asked out Mikasa. Clearly I wouldn’t let him in on my love life.” Jean.

“Of course I almost fucking broke your nose! You made a move on her, and then you made a move on Armin, what the fuck were you expecting?!”

“I don’t know, maybe not a punch to the face? Gotta protect the goods.” Jean.

“…Dude. Did you actually just say that?” Connie. “Sasha and I aren’t even that lame, and we’re super fucking lame.”

“Yeah, Jean. Besides, you have a horse face anyways. No goods to be seen.”

“SHUT UP!” Jean. “I’ll have you know- Oh, sorry, did you need bags today? …That’ll be $4.55, how would you like to pay? OK. Here’s your receipt, have a nice day. Back to what I was saying- I’ll have you know that your best friend isn’t as innocent as you thought.”

“Did you have sex with Armin?!”

“Nah. He certainly is loud, though.” Jean.

“Dude.” Connie.

“What the fuck.” Sasha.

“What the hell happened to Marco?”

“Shit happened to Marco, and I miss him a fuckton, but he unfortunately decided to move back home after graduation, and I am an impatient man.” Jean. “Besides, Armin’s cute. Surely you’ve noticed that after being his friend for who knows how many years.”

“Ugh. I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jean.

Immediately after I clocked out for the day, I made sure to do my groceries and check out at Jean’s till. He absolutely hated working the register, so it was a sort of revenge for him doing god knows what with Armin. The prick.

It was 4 PM when the trill of Skype lit up my computer.

“Do you wanna know what I just fucking found out at work?”

“Hello to you, too, Eren.”

“I found out that Jean and Armin have done some shit. Like, sexual shit. _Fuck_. Well, not fuck, but you get the point.”

“Oh, wow. This is certainly a better conversation topic than the one I thought we were going to have.”

“And what was that?”

“Us. I don’t know. Let’s just talk about them, OK?”

“I don’t want to now. God, what the fuck.” I sighed. “What about us?”

“It’s just… We haven’t talked since the night before you graduated. I watched, by the way. You looked so handsome, I wanted to fly over there and fuck you right into the stage in your suit.”

I blushed. “Levi, please.”

“It’s true!”

“That doesn’t mean you should say it!”

“Are we OK?”

“What?” I had been caught off guard. “Why bring that up so suddenly?”

“Dunno. I only woke up a few hours ago; maybe I’m still tired. Still. Are we OK?”

“I would hope we are. I don’t want you to take back that apology, it was really beautiful.”

He sighed. “Good. I, uh… I went to the post office and mailed my letters from the past month to you. I hope that’s OK.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to read them, I was going nuts when they stopped coming. Well, I was going nuts when they came after we stopped talking, too. Are they bad?”

He nodded. “I would think so. So you don’t have to read them, if you don’t want to. How are you right now, though?”

“Eh, I’m holding up. I think I’ll be OK. It’s been so long since I felt depressed during the summer that maybe I forgot how to bring it on.”

“Ah. Is it bad that I had forgotten about your seasonal-affective disorder?”

“It’s not, it makes sense that you forgot. I only mentioned it in passing, right? And you hadn’t really ever seen me in one of my states of affection, so it’s not like you should have been concerned. I’m fine, really. I’ll see someone if it gets bad.”

I saw his eyes droop as he rested his chin upon his hand. “I really wish I could be there with you. I don’t want you to feel anything like that again.”

“It’s OK, Levi. Trust me. You’re not doing anything wrong by wanting to further your career. I should be doing the same. I’m just stuck at a grocery store, not even full-time. So don’t feel bad about yourself, please.”

“But you literally just graduated a day ago.”

“Yeah, well.”

He reached out and touched the screen. I touched it back. “We’ll make it through this, I’m sure of it. Three more months and I’ll be back.”

“And we’ve already made it through nine. Three won’t be that bad.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

I held my breath. “I’m gonna go, OK? Staying up has really taken a toll on me. It’s not because I don’t want to talk to you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“No, it’s fine. Sleep. Lord knows you don’t sleep enough anyways.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Go. Sleep.”

The screen blinked to black. I let the breath out.

 

* * *

 

**_Day 353_ **

****

_Dear Eren,_

_Hearts should be made out of rubber. That way, they can just bounce back from whatever is thrown at them._

_You will hate me. I am telling you the news tomorrow, and you will hate me, and I already hate myself, but what else is new?_

_I had told myself, Levi, you must never hurt him again, you hear? You hurt him, you will not only hurt yourself but you will ruin your life._

_It’s a good thing that I’m giving myself some time to prepare. Otherwise, I don’t think I’d be able to do this._

_I won’t tell you over Skype. I don’t want to see your face drop, I don’t want to see the tears welling up in your eyes because I know it will be my fault and I will have hurt you for the second time in four months. I never try to hurt you, I’m sure our almost four years together have proven this._

_I’m not sure we’ll make it to four years._

_I want to, but for the first time, I believe that you will not put up with me and will just delete me from your life._

_Not that I want to be gone from your life. Quite the contrary._

_I love you._

_Je t’aime._

_Te amo._

_Ich liebe dich._

_Ik hou van je._

_Jeg elsker dig._

_Is breá liom tú._

_Es mīlu tevi._

_Volim te._

_Te iubesc._

_Aku sampeyan._

_Aš tave myliu._

_Mahal kita._

_Rakastan sinua._

_Eu te amo._

_I love you._

_I don’t believe it will ever be enough._

* * *

I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach, one that ached to be released and one that wouldn’t go away until it was addressed.

I had experienced something like this before, just in the opposite spectrum. The same feeling had occurred in me the day Levi had asked me to be his boyfriend.

And I remember it extremely clearly. It was like yesterday, which is cliché, but true.

In the second week of February, there was to be a party. I was required to go. Well, not required; forced. It wasn’t a bad thing.

I had met Levi at the coffee shop a few weeks before, and we had been talking as friends. I had always found him attractive, even more so the second time I had met him. I was so sure he had been disgusted with me, that day, as I had gotten into a fight with Jean and was bruised and bloodied.

Levi had sighed and shaken his head, beckoning me to follow him to his apartment where he had gotten saline and cleaned up my wounds.

I had fallen for him in that moment.

So it was a surprise when he was the first to initiate our relations.

At that party, the one I had been forced to go to, I hadn’t even noticed he was there. I had been drinking, but I wasn’t drunk. I was talking with someone, who fucking knows, when a smaller hand had grabbed mine and pulled me away from my conversation.

“Hi.”

I had noticed his breathlessness right away. “Hi?”

My first taste of him tasted like whiskey.

He had bumped our noses, scowling slightly before bringing our mouths back together, and I had been in a state of shock and confusion.

OK. Alright.

The next morning, I had awoken in an unfamiliar bedroom, clad in my long sleeved, thermal shirt and plaid boxers, lying in a sea of grey and black sheets. I had heard water running, slight humming coming from behind a closed door.

My head ached, but I felt loose and relaxed.

The door opened, and steam fell out before Levi emerged, running his hand through the wet strands of his hair and clad in a white towel.

“You OK with this?” he had asked nonchalantly. Like it had been a normal occurrence.

“Uh.”

“You wanted to come back here at the end of the night. You were drunk. We didn’t do anything besides make out, so don’t worry.”

“Oh. Good.” I had gulped.

He had smirked. “You sure look petrified for someone who was all for it.”

“Was I… Did I get more drunk than you?” He had nodded. I had buried my face in my hands. “Oh god, was I embarrassing? I’ve never been _that_ drunk before.”

“No, you were fine. Kind of like a puppy, actually, tripping over yourself and being clingy as hell.”

He had sat own next to me. “So, um… We made out?”

“Yeah.” He looked down at my lap before looking up again. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“I… No. I don’t have a problem with that.”

“Good.”

And he had taken the back of my head in his hand and pulled me towards him, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against mine. I remember how my memories from the night before had come flooding back into my mind, albeit blurred, but they were still vivid.

I remember how, the night before, he had offered to relieve me, but I had refused.

I felt his eyelashes fluttering, I remember that distinctly. They had brushed my eyelids, and I had wanted to squirm, but I kept myself seated firmly on the mattress.

I counted the seconds that our kiss lasted. 43.

When he broke apart from me, his eyes had looked concerned. “Eren?”

“Um…”

“Was that alright?”

“Do you… Do you really need my consent and permission for everything, Levi?”

He nodded. “I would have felt like shit if you hadn’t wanted that.” He paused. “Did you want that?”

I nodded quickly. “Uh, I’ve wanted that since you cleaned me up after my fight with Jean.”

“So it’s safe to say that my feelings are reciprocated?”

“They are.”

He had broken into the first genuine smile I had ever seen him shed. “So you’ll be my boyfriend, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

I gave him a blowjob the next day, and we fucked for the first time a week after we made our relationship official.

The feeling in the pit of my stomach then had been happy, full of hope, all that crap that goes along with romance novels.

Again, it was completely opposite this time.

He was due to come home in less than two weeks, and I was excited. No, excited wasn’t the word for it. I was ecstatic. I was overjoyed. I was overwhelmed, and I was relieved.

He would be home, he would be safe, we would be together.

I knew that I was being too hopeful the moment my phone rang at 7 PM.

“Levi?”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you had phone time today?”

“Yeah, well, I’m good at convincing people to give me shit.”

I smiled to myself. “True. What’s up?”

“I was, um. I was called into the program director’s office yesterday.”

“For details about coming home?”

“Not exactly.”

“Levi?” The feeling got worse. “What did they call you in for?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Why were you called in to the program director’s office?”

He audibly gulped. “I, um.”

“Levi. Why were you called into the program director’s office.” It wasn’t a question anymore.

“They, um… I was offered a promotion. To, uh. To stay in Paris for another year.”

If I had the courage, I would have hung up the phone. I would have screamed expletives into the air and then called back like a decent person to hear an explanation.

I had never been one to have courage, in my opinion.

“Did you… Did you say yes?”

“Eren, you h-”

“Just fucking tell me, alright? Did you say yes, Levi?” I felt my fingers digging into my palm.

“I did.”

“…Oh.”

There are parts in movies that we are accustomed to. When the music reaches its climax, or it stops altogether, and you can practically feel the anguish a character is supposed to be portraying. These are called narrative archetypes. We are so used to them that it shouldn’t be surprising when they are deployed.

The media is not real life, however.

“Eren?”

“That’s, uh… That’s great, Levi. Really. I’m happy for you. How much is the, um, the raise?” Tears threatened to exit my eyes like waterfalls.

“I would be making $75,000 instead $50,000. It’s good money.”

“That’s good.” I sniffed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. You won’t be coming home when I thought you were going to be, right?”

“Yeah. Eren, are you sure you’re OK?”

“Levi, I’m fucking fine, I don’t need you to dote over me like a child. I… I shouldn’t quit my job then. OK. I’ll figure it out.”

“Eren-”

“I’ll talk to you later, OK? I- fuck, I’m sorry.” My voice had cracked. “I need to go.”

I hung up the phone and threw it across the room on instinct.

So that was it, then.

Huh.

I thought it would end on better terms.

I was 22. I had been 22 for months, and yet my emotions were running rampant like a teenager’s, tears spilling onto my cheeks and nose blocking up.

It was 7:15 PM. 15 minutes was not enough.

The words hadn’t been spoken, but I knew that my relationship was over. So Paris won. The ax always wins, doesn’t it?

My legs refused to move until my bladder was incredibly full, and then suddenly they became the fastest things in the world. Upon relieving myself, I pulled my pajama pants back up to hang low on my waist and immediately crumpled to the floor, smelling the sterility of the cleaning products underneath our sink.

Scratch that. _My_ sink. Well, maybe not my sink.

Did this mean I would have to find an apartment for myself?

I almost retched, but I composed myself before I could yank the toilet seat cover open.

I slowly lowered my head to the cold, white tile and closed my eyes while nearly four years of memories flitted in my mind.

I remembered, that one day the year previous, where the leaves had just begun to fall and I had been happy. And I had pulled him out from our bed, made him take his coffee mug with him, and I dragged him into the car. He was bleary from sleep, but he blinked it away while I drove us to the nearest park, where there were already a few piles of leaves raked to the sides. And I recalled how I jumped in them, and then pulled him in with me despite his protests.

I remembered the first time we had slept together, the week after we got together, and I remembered the tears that I had shed at the pain. And I remembered how he wiped them away, and kissed my cheeks and called me beautiful, and how I had felt like we had made love, though I didn’t tell him because our relationship was still new despite us moving fast. And I recalled how we had laid together after our respective climaxes, how I had joked that we should have cigarettes, and how he laughed at me and poked my ribs.

I remembered the day he graduated university, where I was sitting alone in the stands, and how his friends Hanji and Erwin had come to sit next to me. And I remembered how I had cheered when he walked across the stage, shaking hands and accepting his diploma, and how I had felt pride in my heart as they announced that he had placed at the top of his program. And even though we hadn’t been together for six months, I remembered how I felt like he was the person I would be with forever, how I wanted to devote my life to making him happy, truly happy, and how I would propose to him when the time came.

I recalled myself dragging him into a jewelry store, and I remember how he scoffed at the lack of men’s jewelry, and I remember telling him that he should pick a favourite. And I recalled how he had told me that I shouldn’t look so far ahead, I was only 20, I should know better than to settle so quickly. And I remembered how I had swatted his arm, kissed his cheek and said I wasn’t settling, I was happy.

Right now, I wasn’t happy.

It took me until 8:03 to pick myself up from the bathroom floor and shuffle towards the kitchen, where I opened up a shelf and took down bottles. I poured myself a drink in one of the glasses Armin had bought us for Christmas a few years back; two parts Jack, and two bloodshot eyes, and I was golden.

It must have been bad if I had been reaching for the alcohol I had reserved for our reunion.

8:38, and I smashed the third glass down on the counter so hard that the glass shattered. I didn’t even process it until I saw red coming from the side of my thumb, and I noticed how it looked like a bite mark after I cleaned it up.

I left the glass for the morning.

I fell into a fitful sleep around 9 PM, and only woke up around 12 PM the next day at the sound of knocking.

I dragged myself out of bed, winced at the pain in my hand, and opened the door.

“You weren’t answering your calls.”

“Armin, what’re you doing here?”

He pushed me aside and stormed into the apartment, looking around until his eyes settled on the broken glass in the kitchen. “Is that one of the glasses from the set I got you?”

“Yeah.”

“Eren, what happened?”

I broke.

The whole story was told through constant sniffs and with a constantly cracking voice. I felt like I had cried a river by the time I was done, and even then the tears still poured.

“Oh, Eren.”

“I’m sorry, I probably got snot on your shirt.”

Armin cracked a small smirk. “It doesn’t matter. It was from Walmart, I don’t exactly care about it.”

“OK.” I sniffed again. “I’m still sorry though. It was a nice shirt.”

“Eh.” He patted my arm. “So you think you and Levi are through?”

My heart shattered again. “I _know_ we’re through, Armin.”

“But he didn’t explicitly say it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a start, then. He never said you were through, and _you_ never said you were through, so you aren’t through.”

“Armin-”

“You. Aren’t. Through. Clear?” He grabbed my head gently and nodded it up and down. “Good! You agree with me!”

All I did was sniff. “God, can you get me a tissue?”

“Yeah, gimme a few minutes. I’m cleaning up that glass, too. It’s a shame, now the set isn’t even.”

I waited while he cleaned up the glass before he sat back down on the couch beside me, passing me the tissue and waiting while I blew my nose.

“…Thanks.”

“No problem. Now, Eren… You don’t have to lose hope just yet, OK? You two aren’t over. Maybe call him?”

“I don’t want to hear his voice right now.”

Armin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ah, well. OK. Give it a few days, and then call him. Make sure he has a lot of time, and just _talk_ to him.”

“I’m not gonna be able to convince him to get out of the contract. It’s $75,000. That’s ridiculous since he hasn’t even been teaching that long. Armin, they really like him there. How’ll I be able to take him away from that? It’s such a good opportunity, Armin, anyone would kill for it and he seems to be OK with ditching me for his career.”

“Are you sure he’s OK about it?”

“What do you mean?”

He smirked and shook his head. “I don’t know Levi that well even though you’ve been dating for a while, but what I do know is that he’s stoic. He always has been, right? Even before you met him. So don’t be so quick to dismiss his feelings.”

“He just seemed so _sure_ of himself.”

“People are able to act, Eren.”

I love Armin. He’s my best friend, but sometimes, I can doubt him. He stayed for another hour, ruffled my hair, and got up to go his internship.

“Armin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you still… Uh… Are you still doing things with Jean?”

He laughed. “I don’t think my sexual life exactly matters right now.”

“I wanna know!”

“We are. Bye, Eren.”

“Armin!”

He walked out the door.

I was alone again.

 

* * *

 

**_Day 363_ **

_Dear Eren,_

_I s          e wri   g duri g l    ff. O , fu    ou wo ’t  e a    to  ead     o    i ._

_I    c  i g h  e._

_r h m ._

_Le_

* * *

I awoke on September 1st feeling sick to my stomach.

I remembered, I remembered how a year ago, I had dragged myself out of bed at 3 AM and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I remembered how I had taken a piss and pulled on a light sweater and waited at the door for Levi to look around the house for anything he might be missing.

He had gotten ready, pulled his three suitcases out into the hall, and I helped him load them into the elevator and through the lobby, into the trunk of the car.

We had driven with the radio down low, with him at the wheel and me in the passenger seat. When we arrived at the airport, we parked, and I helped him unload his bags.

“Are you nervous?” I had asked, breaking our near silence.

“Of course I am. I haven’t been to Paris since I was three.”

“Not about that.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Like I said, of course I am. I’m good at my job, but I don’t know if I’ll be good at it in another country, you know?”

“Yeah.”

We went to check him in.

The line wasn’t very long, and in less time than I had expected, we arrived at the security checkpoint.

“Well.”

“Just… Be safe, OK?”

“That’s all you have to say to me? I’m gonna be gone for a long time, Eren. Come on.”

I sighed. “I’m just not ready to let you leave yet.”

“I’m not ready to leave either, trust me.”

I had felt a tear slip down my cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“I know.”

And I had leaned down, grabbing him into a hug and breathing in his scent for one last time. It was familiar, but I knew I would lose it in a few days.

“Can I ask you a favour?” I asked into his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Write me every day. I need it.”

And he had nodded, and I broke apart from the hug, a smile planted on my face.

“You’ll be the best teacher in that program, I’m sure of it. Go get ‘em.”

He glanced towards the security, and then back at me. “I think I have to go now if I want to get to my gate on time.”

“OK.” 

Neither of us moved until he got onto his toes and pulled me down by my collar, planting his lips firmly on mine. I had wanted it to last forever, but it obviously couldn’t.

“I love you.”

“Good luck. I love you, too.”

I hadn’t said those words to him in person for one year.

The morning of September 1st, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sighed, looking around the bedroom before planting my feet on the ground and cringing at the cold. I yawned, scratched my head, and got up from the bed.

I went to the bathroom. I pissed. I washed my face, I brushed my teeth, I attempted to comb my hair.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and noted the dark circles that had sprung up below my eyes in the past few days.

I went back into the bedroom, I pulled on a clean shirt and sweatpants, and I went to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, pulled out a carton of eggs. There were just enough left for an omelet.

Looks like I was treating myself that day.

I grabbed the sad looking red pepper from the vegetable drawer, grabbed a few cherry tomatoes and scowled when I discovered that there were no mushrooms. I grabbed a cutting board and knife, and I cut up my vegetables before whisking them into my eggs. I salted and peppered the mixture, brought a pan up to the stovetop, and waited for it to heat up before pouring the eggs into it.

I waited for them to cook. I nearly cried.

I flipped the omelet, waited for that side to cook, and slid the finished result onto a plate a few minutes later. I salted and peppered the omelet again, grabbed a fork from the drawer beside me, and tucked in.

You would think that someone who works in a grocery store would have a better perception of what would taste lively. The omelet was just bland.

I felt bland myself.

Once I finished the omelet, I put the plate and fork into the sink and washed my hands, then went back to the bedroom and grabbed my laptop, bringing it out to the couch in the living room and slumped down, opening it up and waiting for the Internet browser to boot.

I surfed in a mindless stupor until 1:30 PM, when I heard a knock on the door.

“Coming!”

I put the laptop down on the coffee table. I walked to the door. I opened it.

I nearly collapsed.

His hair was disheveled, he was pale and clammy, he looked tired but he was _there._

“You idiot.”

My arms automatically reached out and grabbed him around the neck, my head automatically buried itself in his shoulder and my voice involuntarily let out a choked sob.

“You fucking _idiot,_ Levi.”

“I know.”

I didn’t even process that we had sunken to the floor until my knees hit it.

I don’t know how long we stayed in this position, huddling together and grasping each other like our lives depended on it. I suspect our lives actually _did_ depend on it. I wouldn’t have been surprised.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, voice rough and wet with sobs.

“I came home.”

“You came home.” Thank god. “You came _home._ I was so fucking afraid that we were over, Levi, thank god.”

He kissed my hair. “I was, too.” I realized he was crying as well. I didn’t feel as silly then. “Fuck, I was so stupid, Eren.”

“Let’s stand up, OK?”

“OK.”

We stood, and I turned to go to the couch, but my arm was grabbed and I was yanked down into a kiss. My face flushed, my knees went weak, and I felt Levi’s hands resituate themselves at the back of my neck, grasping at the hair at the nape. He was the one to break the kiss, and we hugged again.

“Couch.” I dragged him there and sat him down. “Can you explain to me what the hell is happening?”

He grabbed my hand and squeezed. I squeezed back. “I hated myself. I couldn’t stand the sight of myself in the mirror, Eren, it was horrible.”

“You’re not the only one.”

He sighed, brought my hand up to face level and kissed it. “I called Erwin, and he told me I was the biggest asshole on the face of the earth. He was right.” He paused, kissing my knuckles. “So I went to the program director and told him that I wasn’t taking the promotion. They were freaking out, but I didn’t give a fuck about them. I booked the earliest tickets I could, I packed my bags, and I left. And now I’m here.”

“Levi…”

“Erwin’s getting my old job back. I’ll just start a few days late, is all.”

I brought his face to mine, kissed him again, wondered if I was dreaming. He squeezed my hand again, and it confirmed that I was in real life.

“What about the raise?”

“Fuck the raise. I couldn’t do that to you. My god, it’s been a fucking _year._ I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.”

He broke into a smile. “I love you.” I echoed him. “I’ve been waiting to say that to you in person for a year. Why did I even do this again?”

“For us.”

“Oh yeah.”

And I pulled him into another hug. And I smelled his scent, letting its familiar tones make themselves a home in my mind once again.

A year.

We were soldiers, that was for sure.

I couldn’t say that I minded.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in the midst of writing something that's going to (hopefully) be 50,000+ words, so i figured i needed to give you guys something while i work on that. i got a little too caught up in this story, but it'll be fine.
> 
> as always, I have two tumblrs that you can feel free to follow. [daddylazward](http://www.daddylazward.tumblr.com) is my main account, and [i-am-an-evil-witch](http://www.i-am-an-evil-witch.tumblr.com) is my writing account, which is where you can find new fics that I write, updates, original material, etc. 
> 
> also, spot the song references! there are three. i'm assuming that no one will get them, but it would be cool if you did.


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